


56. A Mother's Expectations

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [56]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:24:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1298092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	56. A Mother's Expectations

_**Sam and Ryan[](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/profile)**_[ **kwanten**](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/): a mother's expectations  
 **players only. takes place the same day as[Ryan visits Sam on set](http://www.journalfen.net/users/sam_worthington/7634.html) and [talks to his mum.](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/13530.html)**

By the time Sam finally lets Ryan come and removes the various toys, he figures he owes his lover some down time. They curl up on the couch together, stretched out, Ryan half on top of Sam, watching mindless sitcoms. Ryan's quieter than usual though and finally Sam has to ask, "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" Ryan blinks and looks up, giving his lover a smile. "I'm a little tired," he admits. "Some sex fiend got a hold of me today. Chained me up and fucked me four times before he made me come through a cock plug." What a hobby.

Sam grins. "Which you seemed to enjoy thoroughly."

"Guilty," Ryan admits with a chuckle. He links his fingers with Sam's. "I love it when you fill me up like that. When I can feel you inside me even after you've left," he says softly, just loud enough to be heard over the TV. "So fucking hot."

"I've never been able to do that with anyone," Sam says, his grin widening. "I think it might actually be my new bulletproof kink."

"Good to know." Ryan smiles, delighted to be something new for Sam. "I, ahh." He laughs a little. "You'll never guessed who called me while I was cuffed to the bed."

"Your agent?" Sam says, taking a guess anyway.

"Worse," Ryan laughs. Just thinking about it makes him flush. "My mum."

Sam's eyes widen. "And you answered?" Christ. He's not sure he would have.

"Well... yeah. I was a little bored." Ryan shrugs. "I guess I wasn't thinking. But she wanted to know how we liked those cookies she sent last week." It was an assortment of her specialties, and disappeared fast.

"I hope you told her they didn't last long," Sam says with a laugh. They were _so_ good.

"Yeah, she knows boys," Ryan agrees. He snuggles in a little deeper against Sam before he continues. "She also bugged me about bringing you home to visit. But I told her we might not be coming for a while. Because, um. She sent me this." He digs the folded picture out of his pocket and anxiously hands it to Sam.

Sam stares at the picture of two men with babies in their arms. "Who is it?" he asks, not really getting why Ryan seems so uncomfortable.

"It's Neil Patrick Harris and his husband. And their babies," Ryan answers, sneaking a quick glance at Sam's face. "You know. Her gay dream family that she loves to pester me with."

"Oh." Sam looks at the photo a moment longer then hands it back to Ryan. "Is that what you want?" he asks softly.

Ryan is stunned silent for a moment. It's the last thing he expected Sam to say. "Um. Maybe," he says, just as softly. "You know, someday." He's frozen waiting for Sam's reply.

Sam thinks about that. About his career, how much he loves Ryan, the idea of himself as a dad... "I don't see why we can't go see your parents," he says finally. "But if your mum asks, or starts pushing the conversation that way, I'm going to be blunt and let her know that there's not a chance in hell of any of that happening for a good ten, fifteen years. I'm only thirty-four and I love my work and I don't want to take any chance of fucking things up. In ten years or so, they probably won't be looking at me as a romantic lead anymore and at that point, I might want to chuck it all in anyway. But your parents can't be pushing us or poking us or trying to get us on any kind of timeline."

Now Ryan is just stiff, trying to process all of that. "We shouldn't go see them then," he finally decides, wondering why he feels so cold inside. _Ten to fifteen years?_ "I mean, because she will push. It's just her nature." He takes the picture back from Sam, carefully folding it up along the creases and slipping it back into his pocket.

The stiffness doesn't go unnoticed, nor the way Ryan carefully folds the picture and puts it away. "So what? You're never going to introduce me to your parents?" Sam feels a little sick to his stomach, like he's fucked up big-time without even knowing. "You said someday. What were you thinking?"

"I don't know. Five years?" Ryan suggests, laying his hand on Sam's knee. "I mean, I'm thirty-four too." And obviously looking at that number from a very different perspective. "I don't want to be in my sixties when my kids are in their teens. I want to be able to keep up."

Five years. Christ. He won't even be forty, and still in the prime of his career. Sam shifts, wanting, no, needing to sit up. "That doesn't sound like a maybe," he says. "That sounds like it's something you definitely want."

Ryan moves out of Sam's lap, feeling the tension suddenly radiating through his lover's body. And knowing he caused it. He sits up, untangling their legs. "Yeah. It's something I always saw for myself. Didn't you?" He nibbles on his bottom lip, studying Sam. "If things were different, would you want children?"

"Not right now," Sam blurts out, overwhelmed.

"Okay." Ryan nods slowly. God, he hadn't meant for this. He's not sure how to fix it. "I'd choose you over children, Sam," he says softly, wanting to make sure they're both certain of that. "If that wasn't clear."

The words aren't the balm they should be. "I don't want you to do that," Sam protests, staring blindly at the floor, at his hands between his knees, too much going through his head to focus on anything. "I don't want you to end up resenting me."

"There's nothing to resent," Ryan argues. "We're talking about hypothetical children. They don't even exist." Panic is starting to flare, and he struggles to keep his voice even. "The issue isn't me running off to find a surrogate on my own. I was talking about building a family with you. And if you're not ready for that, then it's off the table. It’s that simple."

"And what about your parents?" Sam asks, unable to help himself. "Are you going to put off having them meet me until I _am_ ready?"

"God. These should be separate conversations," Ryan mutters, dragging a hand through his hair. "No. No, if you want to meet them, then of course you can. Maybe one of my brothers will even get someone pregnant and the pressure will be off me."

Sam nods, closing his eyes for a moment, his arms folded across his chest. He should've known better than to think he could do right by Ryan. Give him what he needs, what he deserves.

"Hey," Ryan says softly, watching Sam. It's like he can _see_ the walls going up, shutting him out. "Baby, this is a non-issue," he insists gently, "we don't have to fight about it. We don't even have to think about it." He reaches out to touch his lover's shoulder.

Sam opens his eyes, turning his head to look at Ryan. "If it's such a non-issue," he asks, equally as gently, "why has it already come up so many times?" It has to mean a lot more to Ryan than he's admitting.

Ryan doesn't have an answer for that. He drops his hand. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I didn't mean... I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Sam says, reaching over to take Ryan's hand back. "It's just - it's a lot at once. My first house, my first real relationship..."

 _And I'm already talking about kids_ , Ryan thinks, trying to see it from Sam's perspective. "Yeah. I guess I forget that," he admits, lifting Sam's hand to rub against his cheek. It's better than retreating, much better. But a lot harder, too.

Now that they're working it through, Sam's heart isn't racing half as quickly, or his mind, and he's lost that sick sort of feeling he had when he thought he'd really fucked up with Ryan. "Why don't we think of it as our five year plan. Revisit everything then. That way if your parents ask, you've got something you can tell them and I can just... stop freaking out," he says, chuckling softly. "Who knows what things'll look like in five years."

It's a concession that surprises the hell out of Ryan. "Okay," he whispers, although he'd give up ever broaching the subject again if it meant they didn't have to have another tense conversation like this. "Let's, um. Let's drop the subject until then." His chest is still tight. He still wants to get out and punch something just to work off some of this nervous energy. But if Sam can sit through this, then so can he.

Sam nods. "Sorry," he says, feeling like a bit of an idiot. He could've just said he wasn't ready to think about it yet and they wouldn't have had to go through all of this.

Ryan snorts softly. "What the hell are you sorry for?" he asks, finally lying back to lay his head on Sam's thigh, looking up at his lover. "The most your parents asked me was whether I was serious about you. And I'm not certain your dad even wanted to know." He grins crookedly.

Sam laughs, brushing Ryan's hair back from his temple. "I think they just take it for granted they'll never have grandchildren. Yours know they could." He shrugs and then smiles, miming zipping his lips. "Love you," he whispers.

"Yeah." Ryan reaches up to brush a thumb over Sam's lips. "I know you do," he murmurs, searching Sam's eyes. He does. That's why it hurts so much. "I love you, too."

Sam smiles. "Want to call it an early night?" he asks, because right now, there's nothing he wants more than to curl up in bed with Ryan and hold him close.

Ryan nods, linking his fingers with Sam's. "Yeah."  



End file.
